Work Text:
It was a busy afternoon that day in New Home: since it was a weekend, the population was more out and about than ever, taking walks, visiting public spaces, and mingling with other city goers.
Flier lethargically kicked his stubby little feet as they dangled over the edge of the park bench. He was much too small for his little legs to touch the ground when he was perched on the edge of a bench meant for much taller monsters. But it was somewhere to sit, and he needed the space so he could read.
He had the newspaper clutched in his hands. It was a bit of a task for his tiny fingers to manage, but they managed all the same. It was all he could do right then to read it and think about where he would go from there.
There he was, without company and left aimless in the midst of Tantelga Park, which he only knew the name of because he saw the sign displaying it as he passed into the place. He had never been here before, which might have been surprising to any who knew him, considering that he had lived in New Home his whole life.
In truth, however, New Home had quite a few parks. Most of them weren’t particularly big, though. Almost all of the city’s space was set aside for housing, businesses, and workplaces, so there was scarcely much room for recreation. Nonetheless, Asgore had supposedly wanted New Home to feel like a lovelier place, so he had lobbied for some parks to be built.
In the end, there were really only a few around town. The other parks weren’t big, they were specifically built in areas with available grass and yet also had to account for the limited space they were given.
Tantelga Park, by comparison, was a bit more sizable. A lot of monsters were mingling about the park at that moment as a result. It was a popular spot for monsters to visit on the weekends: smack dab in the city, out where it was brightest inside the cavern, and with more square feet of space to walk around in than any other park in the city could claim.
This meant that the place was crowded; monsters commonly passed by the bench Flier sat moodily on, all the available grassy space was occupied by picnickers and sports players, and the chatter of active conversation was in every direction.
Flier wished he could go home. But that wasn’t an option anymore.
He did, however, have the paper with him, and he was hoping to find work as soon as possible. He knew job offerings could usually always be found in the news.
As far as he knew, the paper really didn’t have much exciting stuff to report nowadays. Mundane infrastructure announcements, sports team essays, and the occasional minor city mishap, maybe, but not much else. In fact, half of the paper was devoted primarily to crosswords and comics, so it seemed just as focused on entertainment as it was on news reporting.
But none of that really concerned Flier right now. He used to read all the comics happily in his free time, but he didn’t have any free time right then.
He needed work.
Now that things were the way they were, getting some G in his pocket was priority number one. He had to forget the fact that he had no idea what to do in terms of housing and had no idea where he would stay when night fell; right now, all he had room to worry about was whether he could say he had money to work with.
At least then, he might be able to stay at an inn or a hotel. New Home had a lot of those, that was for sure. In fact, many of the owners of those places were usually kind enough to let some homeless stay in the cheaper rooms for free. But while the prospect was tempting, Flier knew he had to resist. The housing crisis was too turbulent at the moment, he didn’t want to get caught in squabbles over living space and get forced out.
But there was one saving grace: the job segment of the newspaper.
The Underground was a busy place with no shortage of work, especially in New Home where most of the population of the underground lived. There was plenty of jobs to take on if you figured the workload was for you.
And that was what Flier knew he had to do.
Right away, he saw a job that looked promising. A place that drew custom artwork for people, which was hiring artists to do the job! He wasn’t too bad at drawing. He’d sketched out stuff that had gotten him good grades in school! It was just what he needed!
“Flier, could I take a look at that drawing you’re working on?”
“Oh, sure. Here.”
“...Hmm, this is… unique, I suppose. What’s with the extra arms, though?”
“The monster’s waving their arms up and down! They said they wanted it to look all childlike and cutesy, so… that’s kinda like that, right?”
“I couldn’t really tell they were waving their arms, though.”
“...”
“Ah, perhaps I’m being too harsh. Why don’t we see what the customer thinks?”
“Uh, okay!”
“Why is my nose so big?! A-And, and… I don’t have this many arms! And why on earth did you draw me blushing?!”
“I t-thought it looked cute!”
“I told you to make me look COOL! Ugh! This was a waste of my money! I’m out of here!”
And if that didn’t work out, there were so many other things he could take on described in the paper!
For instance, puzzle inspection! The Royal Guard needed somebody to inspect the quality of their puzzles and provide an honest review! He could do that! He liked those little puzzle games he played on his phone, so he probably had a grasp of how it worked! Royal Guard puzzles were like that, right?
“Ey, Flier. Got a few complaints about your recent review.”
“C-Complaints? J-Just a few?”
“Yeah, yeah. For starters, uh, lemme see here… you put this ping pong puzzle down as a 9/10 for construction, but it collapsed just the next day.”
“It did?!”
“Mmm, yeah it did. And then we got the tripwire puzzle out in Hotland. We took a look at it, and, uh… it was made outta silly string and popsicle sticks. And… you put it as a 10/10?”
“...I thought it was really creative?”
“...”
And if that didn’t work out, there was always cooking.
Cooking. Cooking! Cooking…
Putting food in the microwave counted as cooking, right?
“Flier! Where’s the sauce?”
“The what now?”
“The supersize steak is supposed to be supplemented with our savory sauce!”
“H-Hey, hey, hey!! C-Could you maybe not say it as a tongue twister… ?”
“Listen, just… don’t forget it again! In fact, we SHOULD be fine if you just remembered to cook the steak at 410 degrees exactly!”
“...Um…”
“What?”
“...Will it still be okay if it was cooked at 450 instead?"
Heck, he could even work for the people that made the very newspaper he was reading right now! He was sure he could really jazz the boring monotony of the usual entries with some cool headlines!
“You’re not seriously expecting me to believe this, are you?”
“What do you mean? It’s a real story!”
“A real story about raining cats and dogs in eastern Waterfall?”
“N-Now, I know it sounds a bit outrageous when you first hear it, but I SWEAR it’s…”
“Flier. Give it to me straight. Where did you hear this from?”
“...A snake sitting in a jar?”
And if all else failed, there was absolutely no way he’d fail the toy business. I mean, selling little things for children to play with sounded great! He always wanted toys as a kid (not that he got many), so to share that joy with other kids? Heck yes, he’d go for that!
There wasn’t any way that’d go wrong!
“And if I may interest you in this used toy car, perfect for your kids…”
“It’s missing a wheel.”
“Oh, uh… I’m not sure what you mean! All four tires are on!”
“I meant the steering wheel.”
“...Oh. Um. Uh. Well… how about this one? This one’s a nice shiny red, AND the steering wheel’s still there so your kids can drive around in it, and…”
“You know what, I just remembered I have an urgent appointment to be getting to, I’ll just go ahead and…”
“H-Hey! Where are you going? Come back!”
…
Fast food was easy, right? Anyone could do fast food!
“D’oh!”
“ANOTHER order dropped, Flier. You know the manager won’t be happy when she sees this, right?”
Or, forget the fast food angle. A bakery! The spidery bakery was hiring!
“In my free time, I like to feed little bugs like you to my pet, ahuhuhu~”
“U-Uh… maybe I should be going!”
“Oh, but why? Dinner time is soon, and my little spiders are oh-so-starving…”
“G-GOODBYE!!”
…Teaching. The school in Hotland was opening up teaching positions. He’d take it. Surely he could-
“Hi mister principal! Mr. Flier just taught us two plus two! It equals fish!”
“It equals WHAT?!”
He could always just-
“Why can’t you do this right a single time? It’s NOT that hard!”
There was a pretty good chance he’d be good at-
“Your recent performance was, ah… how do I put it… a sign of dire incompetence.”
He’d eat his wings if he failed to-
“FOLLOW! SIMPLE! INSTRUCTIONS!”
He could-
“And your experience is?”
“...Uhm.”
“Not even a wink of experience?”
He…
“Flier, I respect your dedication, but I think your talents are better elsewhere, and… not in the drawing business.”
“Ey, puzzle maintenance ain’t for everyone, little man. Why don’t you go find something a little more up your alley?”
“If you can’t even remember simple things like sauce and temperature, then you’ve got no place in making food for other monsters!”
“The likelihood of me believing this drivel is the same as the likelihood of me keeping you hired after this.” “Um… fifty percent?” “ZERO percent.”
“Sir, we’ve recently received complaints about design flaws in your toy cars, and we’re going to have to ask you to-”
“Get. Out. Of. My. Restaurant.”
“Ahuhuhuhu, perhaps this job was wasted on a little scamp like you.”
“I didn’t hire you to teach the children BULL hockey! You’re- !”
“I’m not paying you to be a SCREW-UP!”
“The incompetent type is not the one deserving of my payment, sadly.”
“YOU! ARE! HISTORY!”
“No experience, no job.”
“You idiot.”
“You’re fired.”
“Fired.”
“I’ll have to lay you off.”
“Get outta here.”
“Please gather your things.”
“Take your lousy resume elsewhere.”
“In all my time of hiring bright and able monsters, never in my life have I met anyone as utterly incapable of doing even the simplest and most innocuous tasks… as you.”
Shivering overcame the tiny monster’s body as Flier trudged onwards through the snow, his stubby legs trembling as if they might suddenly decide they no longer wanted to support his weight.
He had come a long, long way. Away from people, away from cities and towns, away from public spaces… away from society as a whole.
His wings were bent low, exhausted from hours of flying through the underground, forcing him to make the rest of the journey on foot. He hated having to walk because of how clumsy his little legs made such an endeavor, but he had no choice at this point.
Snowdin was as cold as ever. Maybe a little colder. He swore the icy wind was affecting him worse than it ever had the previous times he had come around this part of the underground.
He had to hurry. If he didn’t, he might get frostbite. At least, he thought that was what would happen. He wasn’t sure what he even knew anymore. Maybe he really knew absolutely nothing. Maybe he was as airheaded as they came. Why else would he have been reduced to this?
All of the hardships, all of the struggles, and still…
He was nowhere closer to realizing his purpose in life.
Not a step closer.
All he could do now was run. Run away from everything that he had known throughout this miserable portion of his life, and go somewhere nobody would ever find him and shame him for his own inadequacies again.
By this point, the huge wall of violet bricks was in close proximity. The Ruins, the old remnants of monsterkind’s previous capital, largely uninhabited after being left behind decades upon decades ago.
Nobody would find him here. Here, he’d finally be able to be at peace.
A circular doorway extended out of the giant wall, disfigured trees leaning against it and a wooden sign bending over, half-buried in the steadily falling snow.
As his small feet left circular indents in the whiteness beneath, he breathed hard and trudged onwards, heading closer and closer to the solitary entrance.
He had heard from what few monsters knew of this place that this entrance was abandoned long ago, sealed away from the rest of the underground. A huge metal door was tightly locked in here, barring entry, and no one had bothered to try and get in, owing to the fact that nobody truly cared about getting lost in the broken, crumbling ruins of a largely abandoned city.
Well, until he came along. And came alone.
Just a few days before, he had seen this tiny lizard woman, much younger than he was, dejectedly walk down this path with a pencil leaning against her shoulder. She had come this way, he was sure of it.
And if she hadn’t returned, that meant there was a way inside the Ruins through this doorway after all. If she could use it, so could he.
Snowflakes drifted down in his wake, falling to the snow behind him as he passed through the lone entryway, fading into the darkness beyond, enveloped by the shadowy clutches of his new home.
Flier gently awoke from a long nap, his body lounging against an old recliner he had found abandoned in the same small room he now called his own. It was a room he shared with Penilla and Rorrim, sure, but it was his room as much as it was theirs.
They didn’t have beds in here. The sleeping bags Penilla and Rorrim used were borrowed directly from Dalv, who had no use for them anyway. And all he had to rest his body on was an old recliner.
He gently awoke, breathing much more softly, feeling his miniscule form sinking into the dilapidated cushions. The torch bracket set into the wall had been lit again (probably by Penilla. She had brought a lighter for whatever reason.), illuminating the room with light.
Something was laying on the ground right in front of his chair.
Blinking his eyes confusedly, he sat up. Penilla and Rorrim were away, and he was in the room all alone, with nothing except the usual furniture… and something that had been placed right in front of his recliner.
Eyes wide, he fluttered off the seat and slowly descended down to the ground, staring transfixed at what was there.
A little bead bracelet, wrapped in the tiniest bow he had ever seen, laid on top of a large piece of paper upon which something was drawn.
He bent down, picking up the tiny bracelet in his hands. A little tag had been stuck to the bow.
A little trinket just for you.
I hope you like it.
Rorrim
He gaped at the bracelet for what felt like a long time, then, without even really thinking about it, slid it onto his arm, looking at the tiny orange beads sliding onto his hand.
It fit perfectly.
Then he bent down again and picked up the picture.
Everyone was drawn here, all of them smiling… and there he was, at the center, with a soft, genuine smile he hadn’t seen on his own face in so long.
Penilla’s signature was written in the bottom right corner, with a little smiley face next to it that he couldn’t recall Penilla ever adding before. She usually just wrote her name and that was it.
He stared down at the picture for a long time.
Then he hugged it close to himself.
A single tear slid down his face as the same smile he saw in the picture appeared on his own face.
Maybe… they really were his friends after all.
Even if they were annoyed by him.
Even if they tried to get away from him sometimes.
He didn’t know if this kind of thing would change anything. But…
…he was glad.
“Thank you.” He whispered softly, to no one and to everyone in particular.
Tender moments.
Gentle smiles.
The promise of a better tomorrow.
This life will be renewed.
Merry Christmas